


Home

by mother_of_plants



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fix-It, Peace, post season 8x6, this season disappointed so...
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 00:41:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18927802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_of_plants/pseuds/mother_of_plants
Summary: Perhaps there really is something after death, and Jon Snow just really knows nothing.





	Home

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something I needed to get out of my system after Sunday's finale. Just needed to heal some of the cracks of my heart at least a little. Anyway, nothing in here that you have seen before is mine, all the work of GRRM or HBO.   
> <3

For a moment, it was so cold.   
In that moment there were flashes. Everywhere she had been, everything she had done. All of it, until the bitter end. These images were accompanied by the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, there was no pain. Just her life's story, then nothing but blackness. Night so thick that she could feel it wrapped around her, but for the first time in a very long time, in that obscure haze, everything was clear. Steps had led her here, chunks of herself lost along the way, left behind in deserts, thatched tents, oceans, then banks of snow and lastly ash. As her consciousness carried her on this current of this onyx river, Dany wept. She was blind in the darkness but could feel as the tears spilt over and coursed down her cheeks. They were molten, burning a path over her cold body, dripping like pieces of her soul into the abyss.   
No anger. She had no right to it now, she did not even feel it. Just an ache for something, that was not within her grasp.   
Beneath her, what had been coursing dim water slowly shifted, solidifying below her body. Once again, she felt control over her muscles, they seemed stiff, as if she had been laying in a cramped space for a very long time. Dany tried to sit, blinking violet eyes open, and reaching a hand to shield them from the light around her.   
"Gently girl."   
From her place on a marble floor, Daenerys could make out Olenna Tyrell sat in a high backed chair. Large pots of blooming roses to her left and right they were not red, but a soft blush pink, muted and stunning. As was the older woman, vibrant. Daenerys knew not what to say, she opened her mouth, and yet no words could form.   
"We all make choices, but many forget how those choices were impacted by the past. By experiences. We still chose and yet would we have, had the past been different?" The woman paused, tapping a ring-clad hand on the arm of her chair. "I cannot say for certain."   
Pain, dull and aching filled Daenerys's chest. Clarity and realisation had been taken over now by sorrow and self-loathing.   
"None of that child." It, her voice could've been described as a bark had it not been so softly stated. "We all have regrets, some more generous than others when there is regret at all, it is a good sign."   
"Is this- are we in the Nightlands?"  
Olenna chuckled, getting up and seeming far more sprightly than she had been in life. Helping Dany to her feet, narrowing her eyes as she still held the dragon queen's forearms. "See there, that nomadic girl from all those years ago is still there. As for the Nightlands no, or perhaps yes, it is dependant on your view, I suppose. Or what you believe in."   
"I don't know if I ever believed in anything."   
Olenna scoffed, "self-pity is unbecoming and useless, no more than now." Jerking a hand toward the other side of the room, she murmured, "I think what you believe in lies behind that door, go."  
As Dany moved in the way she was directed, another door opened, and Olenna's many grandaughters spilt out, surrounding her with smiles and giggles. Dany left the bright scene, afraid of what she might find. The ornately decorated room was vastly different from the place which she now stepped. Large canvas tents covered a warmth breezy landscape, a sea just past the rows of structures. The tents had fixed planked decks, and gardens planted between one another. Like a Khalasar, but less rugged, and more permanent. Noises of day to day activities could be heard, Daenerys had no idea why she was there. Olenna had said she believed in this, so she wandered past tents, here or there catching glimpses of movement. Until she reached the far end, a tent further off than the others and closest to the sea. Daenerys felt pulled to look inside, but before she stepped onto the deck, the flap of the tent nearest was pulled open, and a woman with chocolate eyes stepped out. Dany swallowed as she fell into the arms of her best friend and confidante. Tears poured from her eyes and Missandei hushed them all, rocking her as she held Dany's head to her chest until her tears had subsided.   
"I-"  
Missandei shook her head, "no, I know what you wish to say, I already know. All of it."   
Dany could only nod through her tears.   
Squeezing her once more in a way that was so unlike their interactions prior, so informal, no one more than another. Missandei nodded toward the tent that had been calling to Dany, "go."   
It was only when she stepped up onto the decking that Daenerys realised she no longer wore her garments from the throne room. Instead, she was in a simple beige dress, somewhere between her Dothraki leathers and her Meereenese gowns. Her feet were bare, her skin felt soothed and free where it touched the earth beneath her.   
The tent was empty various essential items scattered the space, notifying that someone had very recently been there. And the back flap was pinned open revealing a small garden behind. Stopping at the opening Dany peered out.   
Her bear.   
Sat on a log before a fire pit, he was chuckling at something the man across from him had said, his hands occupied with widdling at a chunk of wood. The man across burlier and older was unmistakably her bear's father. By chance, Jorah looked up eyes meeting. His crinkled in the corners and a sad smile showed on his face. He knew too, just as Missandei. Standing, he opened his arms wide to her and Daenerys rushed into them. Pressing her face into his chest and sobbing against his shirt. The smell of him so familiar, pine, firewood and just a hint of citrus, the feeling so exactly as it should be. Everything they had always prayed for, home.


End file.
